


Awake My Soul

by boombayah



Category: iKON (Korea Band)
Genre: Friends to Enemies to Friends, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, M/M, Slow Burn, but please read the notes before the chapters, tags will be updated as the chapters are posted, this story deals with some rather heavy topics
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-06
Updated: 2018-03-06
Packaged: 2019-03-27 12:09:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13880580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boombayah/pseuds/boombayah
Summary: Someone is stealing Bobby's grandmother's flowers.





	Awake My Soul

**Author's Note:**

> Thing is, you never have the sort of friends you have when you’re fifteen ever again. Even if you keep them for the rest of your life, it’s never the same as it was then. 
> 
> It was jealousy and bitterness that drove them apart - Bobby had believed they could survive through anything; him, Jinhwan and Hanbin. They were close friends with different goals and different mindsets, but they always stuck together. 
> 
> Until they didn’t.

Never in his life did he think he would ever set foot in this town again.

There is something strange about running down the familiar route he used to run back before he left for the big city. This town had been his home for so long, this is where he grew up and yet he never believed he would return. The town, and all it’s people would forever be something of his past, something he left behind the moment he stepped onto the bus to head for bigger things. It’s something almost bittersweet about it - he’s bitter because he wished that his return would be a happier moment and now all he wants is to head back home.

Bitterness can be corrosive. It can rewrite your memories as if it were scrubbing a crime scene clean, until in the end you only remember what suits you of its causes. He knows so many in the industry who latches on to their bitterness as if it is what’s keeping them alive. Bitterness and jealousy ran strong in the foundations of entertainment and Bobby basked in the glory of seeing the look on their faces when he finally made it big.

He was young when he left this shithole of a town, at the tender age of fifteen. He didn’t know much about the life outside of the city, but all he knew was that he wanted to be famous; a great big star that would influence so many others, all he wanted was to bring his music to the ones willing to listen. Him, and his two friends.

Thing is, you never have the sort of friends you have when you’re fifteen ever again. Even if you keep them for the rest of your life, it’s never the same as it was then. It was jealousy and bitterness that drove them apart - Bobby had believed they could survive through anything; him, Jinhwan and Hanbin. They were close friends with different goals and different mindsets, but they always stuck together. Until they didn’t.

It’s all about competition and Bobby had been the one left standing in the end. Jinhwan had been such a passionate dancer, that’s what he had lived for and now Bobby doesn’t even know if he’s still dancing or not. Hanbin? He has no fucking clue - one day, he just disappeared, without a single word, without telling anyone. Bobby had seen it as victory back then, because Hanbin was his greatest threat and the mentors loved to pit them against each other until they could no longer stand looking at the other.

Competition makes you stronger. Competition and his thrive for fame landed him where he was today - back in this shithole and he returned alone.

Bobby quickens his steps, the damp air burning in his throat and the cool wind coming in from the sea making his run less burdensome. His fingers thread through his damp black hair, gaze shifting over the railings of the docks. It has been so long since he was here - so long since he saw the diner he loved to visit with his friends. He’s eighteen now, it’s been three years, and yet it feels like it has been a lifetime.

He doesn’t want to be here, he wants to continue running all the way back to Seoul, back to the place he nowadays call home. Being here means failure, he thinks, he never stops being scared of falling from the top, because when he closes his eyes he can still feel the pain from each and every step of the way up. The music industry is constantly changing, the pressure on his shoulders to do good putting cracks in his soul until he finally started breaking, piece by piece until everyone around him had enough.

He is here now because he was given an ultimatum; either straighten out his life, or his contract is over. His father believed it was because of stress he got into fights, his management thought it was his rebellious nature that caused him to lash out in media, but worst of all, it was his grandparents’ assumptions. He had heard them talking when they thought he was asleep. Loneliness. A word that had etched itself deeply into his mind.

Bobby has never been lonely; he has his friends, his fans and family. He has everything he wants in life and he has suffered along the way, but he is not lonely.

The problem with small towns like this one is that everyone knows everyone and the gossiping is more severe than in the bigger cities. Bobby has always hated that part about this town - the gossiping and whispering never ends. The older people thrive, their excitement so clear on their faces as they discuss the latest scandals over a cup of coffee. Reputation is big in a town like this and one wrong move will doom a family for generations. Bobby already knows people are talking about him and his family - he’s the superstar that has returned, the spitfire that threw everything aside to follow his dreams. They wonder why he has returned.

Having a grandmother was like having an army. This was a grandchild’s ultimate privilege: knowing that someone was on his side, always, whatever the details. Even when he was wrong. Especially then, in fact. A grandmother was both a sword and a shield. She refused to discuss his failures when the phone was constantly ringing; all she said was that her grandson was there for a visit and for that, Bobby was forever grateful.

People are looking as he passes the cafés, he hears the whispers as he passes people on the street - he recognizes some of them, most of them are unfamiliar faces. He hears his name from time to time and it gets to the point where he tries to shove the earbuds deeper into his ears to block out the talk. The younger people stare the most - boys and girls his age stare, point and he sees them reaching into their pockets for what he could only assume were their phones.

By the time he reaches his grandparents’ house he has been sprinting. He leans over, hands against his knees as he tries to catch his breath. Yes, this town was the worst.

His steps are heavy as he walks up the porch to his grandparents’ house. He still cannot believe that this is where he has ended up because of decisions made by people other than himself. He’s eighteen, he’s an adult, and yet this choice was made for him and not by him. _We can’t have someone under our company that does not work for it. You show no respect or gratitude, Bobby, people are starting to talk._ Their words still echo in his head. People always talk, that’s what they’re good at.

“Back from your run already?” his grandfather is sitting by the kitchen table, a cup of steaming coffee in front of him and newspaper so close to his face that Bobby wonders if he can even read it at all. The older man looks at his wristwatch. “It took you half an hour to run down to the docks and back? I don’t know if I should be shocked or impressed,” Bobby settles down by the table, still warm and sweaty from the run but too hungry to simply ignore breakfast for a shower. His grandmother carries a scowl on her face, mouth pressed down and eyes harsh, the teacup obnoxiously loud as she puts it down on the table. It’s her finer cup, she must really be aggravated. He doesn’t know what has caused it.

“What’s up?” he asks, reaching across the table for a banana.

“Darling dearest,” his grandfather starts, “I’m sure you are simply imagining things. Who in their right mind would ever dream of stealing your Hyacinths?” Bobby’s pretty sure he hears a ‘ _they’re hideous_ ’ lingering on his grandfather’s tongue but it never quite slips out. It doesn’t stop Bobby from smiling and his grandmother from noticing it however. She knows her husband well enough that her eyes turn into small slits as she stares at him; daring him to continue. “Now, Jiwon, any plans for today?” he clears his throat awkwardly as he turns his attention to the youngest in the room.

“Nope,” he says as he leans back.

“You know, Jiwon,” his grandmother starts as she slides into the chair next to him. “I know a lot of your old schoolmates would love to get in touch with you again,” get in touch with Kim Jiwon or Kim Bobby? Bobby has been through enough situations to know when people are not being genuine. He knows for a fact that none of his old schoolmates are. “It could be nice to get in touch with some before you start school tomorrow,”

“I’m not going,”

“It was a part of the deal, Jiwon,” his grandfather looks at him over the thick rim of his glasses. It’s hard to take him seriously when his eyes look ten times bigger with them on. “You agreed to finish school,”

“I am not planning on staying here for six months,” Bobby replies. He agreed on a few weeks, to ‘straighten his life out’ - they forgot to inform him that a couple of weeks meant six months. He’s not staying in this shithole for six months - he’s not doing it. “You don’t know what that school is like - I am not going back there,”

“Jiwon, dear,” his grandmother starts again, “A lot has changed since you left. This is not the same old town you hated so,” Bobby rolls his eyes at that - this town never changes. The jocks were always the heroes and the ones with the superiority complex running so high that they believed themselves greater than God himself. Everyone else was below them. Bobby was going back there alone - he no longer had Jinhwan and Hanbin by his side. Bobby the superstar was going into hell on his own and he knew he could do it - he has done everything else on his own. But he just hates that school so fucking much.

He doesn’t miss the disapproving click of his grandfather’s tongue. It’s not the first time he’s heard it. He’s heard it so many times throughout his childhood that he knows that a scolding is on it’s way. His grandfather never yells and never raises his voice - he thinks that the true way of educating is giving a life-history, much to Bobby’s dismay it always ends up being minutes long.

“What?” he doesn’t mean to sound as curt as he does, but he knows what is coming, he’s heard it all before.

“You see everything in black and white, kid,” his grandfather says, letting the newspaper fall  back onto the table as he reaches across to grab a cookie despite his grandmother eyeing him. “Your way is not always the right way, sometimes you have to swallow your pride and take the first step. There are more to things than living life in the spotlight. It is very blinding,” his grandfather doesn’t know what he is talking about; doesn’t understand the words that are coming out of his mouth. “You live life a hundred miles per hour - perhaps it’s good for you to slow down, perhaps it is good for you to be back here,” Bobby snorts. His grandfather doesn’t know.

Bobby remembers the summers the most - he’s a summer child, born in the cold winter but somehow feeling more alive when the days are the warmest. It’s early spring now, flowers already blooming much to his grandmother’s liking. She spends most of her waking hours outdoors, Bobby has come to realize. She’s tending to her flowers as if they were her own children. She looks happy when she does it, and Bobby has always remembers the look of content on her face when she tends to her flowers. It brings her joy, much like writing and composing does for Bobby. 

“Jiwon, you are hopeless,” she told him during the afternoon, hands on her hips and a slight shake of her head. “How are you going to grab the attention of a girl when you can’t even tell that these are roses? Even your grandfather, who by the way thinks all the flowers look the same, knows that these are roses,” 

“Grandma, no offense,” Bobby sighs, “I don’t care about flowers,” 

She clicks her tongue, something that is very standard in the older generation of his family it seems. “Let me tell you something, back in my day, if a man knew a thing or two about flowers, the ladies appreciated it more - it meant that they cared,” 

“Showing up at parents front door with flowers is not how it’s done, grandma,” Bobby puts his book aside, his interest in writing dwindling. He leans back in his chair, feet put up on the table despite the stink-eye from his grandmother. “Everyone only cares about fame and money these days, give a girl a wink and you’re set,” his grandmother frowns. 

“What on earth is a ‘wink’?” she shifts, hands on her hips and even Bobby can tell that she has no clue. Bobby has the whole winking thing down - he’s done it so many times that it has started to come natural. His grandmother looks completely bewildered as he demonstrates. 

“No wonder you’re single,” she snorts, “You think this ‘winking’ at a girl will make her fall head over heels for you?” she turns, “Eunkwang, dear, wink at me,” his grandfather grunts from where he’s sitting, pulling his ridiculous sunglasses down slightly, squinting because of the harsh sun.

“Wink? Darling, I’ve seen them do this on the TV, it’s hip!” oh God no, Bobby cringes so hard that his muscles in his back are cramping, “Unlike you, I pay attention to the trends, I got this,” he does his best and even Bobby can’t hold back a smile. “Did I make your heart flutter, love?” his grandmother looks disgusted as she stares at the man she married - probably regretting it by now.

“See, Jiwon, your grandfather looks stupid,”

Why are his grandparents like this? This is exactly why Bobby never shows up at dinner parties - he knows that this is how it always ends. He knows they are keeping up with him, with his TV appearances and interviews and they always pick up on the strangest things. They are so embarrassing. 

“How’s the writing going for you, kiddo?” his grandfather asks, “Are you in need of assistance?”

“Darling, you should leave the writing to Jiwon,” his grandmother says as she kneels down by a large pot where a flower grows that Bobby doesn’t know. “He’s a professional,” 

“I’ll have you know that I am a professional with words too - I solve crossword puzzles all the time!” Bobby has to force himself to suck in a deep breath, his family is unbelievable, “Jiwon, I sent one crossword puzzle in one time - and I won, that must tell you something about my literary and lyrical skills,” 

“It was a crossword puzzle for a third-grader, Jiwon. Don’t trust your grandfather,” 

“Don’t listen to her, kid,” his grandfather leans in closer. “It was for the fifth graders,” 

His grandparents are strange and how on earth they managed to land jobs as doctors and university teachers was completely beyond him. They certainly didn’t act as if they had IQ’s above average. They have fun though, Bobby always see them smiling and he thinks that is all that matters in the end.

Bobby’s gaze shifts the moment he hears his phone vibrating on the table. It rattles and makes itself heard, yet it is none of the people he had expected to see flash across the screen. It’s his father calling for what must be the fifth time that day. Bobby leans forward and turns the sound off, feeling the eyes of his grandfather following him. 

It’s his father’s fault that he’s here in the first place, it’s his father’s and his company’s fault. He knows his father so well, knows how shaken he had gotten at the threat of the company annulling the contract. Bobby wishes he could believe that the worry he had seen in his father’s eyes at the meeting had been for him and not for the lack of paychecks coming in. He wishes he could believe that - oh how he does. 

Bobby lies awake in his bed all through the evening despite trying to tell himself that he needs to get some sleep to be able to handle the morning. He’s going back to school and he’s not even sure how he’s going to react to it, not sure how others will react to him being there. He can only assume that neither Hanbin nor Jinhwan are there. Bobby doesn’t know - he hasn’t spoken to them for years. He needs to talk to someone who can understand - someone he can rant to about this miserable life he’s living. He texts the first person that comes to mind, hoping for some reassurance as he’s starting to dread the morning to come.

 

_To: Mino_

_Bro, call me._

 

He tosses and turns, unable to find a position comfortable enough to offer him sleep. He’s considering jumping on the earliest bus back to Seoul in the morning - screw the contract, screw the company, it’s not like he can get a contract with another company. He’s sure there would be many willing to accept him and let him run his life the way he wants to. Living in this town is not worth it. He finally settles sometime during midnight, his slowly closing eyes locked on his phone on the bedside table, waiting for a response from one of his most trusted friends.

Much to his dismay, Bobby’s phone remains silent throughout the night.

He dreads the morning, he’s standing at the gates of the school he hoped he would never have to return to. They had kept his spot in the program for some weird reason - he would still have a chance to graduate if he really put his ass into it but as he stands there, staring at the students starting to arrive - he wants to run back home.

He walks around the campus - taking everything in and it’s so familiar that Bobby even wonders if anything has changed over the years he’s been gone. The students are the same, still divided into groups. It will never change, will it? Even the small park behind the school is full of life despite it being so early. He hasn’t attracted too much attention yet - but he has only just arrived and the school is not even close to being full. He’s walking through the park, hoping to see some familiar faces of the friends he used to have before he left.

Bobby halts and takes a step back to make sure that he wasn’t imagining things. He spots him sitting alone, books sprawled out on the table before him and pen scribbling almost madly as he takes notes. Bobby would recognize him anywhere - small and lithe yet he had always been the spitfire of their small group. Bobby cannot believe his eyes, cannot believe that he would ever see the smaller man in a place like this.

He fixes the bag on his shoulder, hand buried deep in his pocket as he heads over to the man. The other must’ve noticed that he was no longer alone as the pen stills against the paper and ink slowly starting to bleed through. He sees the other look up at him through the light-brown fringe.

“Jinhwan,” the smaller man lets out something that sounds like a snort. He’s looking at him as if he cannot believe what he’s actually seeing. He looks older, which is expected, more mature. Jinhwan had always been the short and cute one among the three of them; he had been the one that could get away with anything, leaving Bobby and Hanbin to face down the punishments instead back in high school. All Bobby can say is that he looks different now - his facial lines harsher, face not as round.

“Bobby,”

“Didn’t expect to see you here,”

“Ditto,” he’s short on his answers, clearly not too interested in talking to Bobby. He stands there for a good minute, pondering on what to say to the one he used to be so close to when he had been younger. Jinhwan is not planning on saying anything, Bobby realizes, the smaller man is still mad at him.

“Mind if I sit down?”

“Don’t-,”

“Glad you said yes,” Bobby settles down. “There’s nowhere else to sit,” a clear lie - no one would willingly sit in the park and study during a sunny day like this. People were busy hanging out or eating before school started. They sit there in silence for a long time, Bobby’s watching as Jinhwan continues with his homework, or whatever it is that he’s doing. He’s expecting the other to say something and despite them being childhood friends, Bobby finds it hard to start a conversation. Mostly because he remembers how their friendship ended. He’s not too sure Jinhwan appreciates him even trying.

“What do you want?” Jinhwan finally asks, putting his pen down and finally looking up at him. “Why exactly are you here?”

“Like I said, there’s nowhere else to sit,”

“Cut the bullshit,” he snorts, “Did they finally get tired of your shit back in the city and sent you back here?” Bobby glares at him for that. Jinhwan thinks he’s so fucking smart when in reality he doesn’t know shit about anything that’s going on. He likes to make up his own connections. “It’s true, isn’t it?” Jinhwan shakes his head in disbelief before Bobby even has a chance to respond, “It’s true what they say, the pricks always do come crawling back,”

“Come on, Jinhwan - we know each other-,”

“No, we don’t,” Jinhwan’s gaze turns cold. “Don’t pretend that we do.” he starts to gather his things and Bobby knows this conversation is over. He’s still angry, even after the year that has passed, “Stay away, Bobby, like you said; I want nothing to do with you,” he’s not even referring to him as ‘Jiwon’ anymore. Jinhwan had always been adamant on staying true to their roots - they were meant to always be Jinhwan, Jiwon and Hanbin. Bobby guesses it’s different now.

It is different, because he’s the one that caused the rift in the first place.

When the bell rings, Bobby follows the stream of people heading to the entrance. His first day back is going to be something else, he’s sure of it. _One day at a time,_ he tries to tell himself, _do well enough and you can go back home and leave this rotten place forever._ Jinhwan wants nothing to do with him and Bobby’s pride is too great to allow him to speak the words that the other probably wants to hear. He has done nothing wrong, they simply grew up, their views and goals changing with them and he cannot apologize for how their lives turned out. Bobby doesn’t see Jinhwan as he steps through the doors - but the silence is almost deafening. As soon as someone spots him, it spreads like wildfire until everyone is staring at him as he passes. It has always been a fight for survival when it comes to school - it’s not only about proving yourself worthy for the future ahead, it’s about coming out of it on top, it’s about standing tall among the vipers.

“It’s Kim Bobby,” someone whispers behind him and he tries to turn the attention into something positive; _that’s right. It’s me; Kim Bobby. It’s probably the closest you’ll ever get to someone of importance._ He heads to class and he’s happy that at least he was studying music production. He sits alone after the introduction, down in the corner where he doesn’t have to listen to people whispering behind him. They’re still staring when they have the chance, looks at him when they think he won’t notice. 

A boy approaches him when the teacher excuses himself for a toilet break. He gives off the typical rich kid aura and Bobby recognizes him. It's Song Yunhyeong - the son of the principal.

"Jiwon," he says, the first one to speak Bobby's real name. "It's good to see you back," he sounds almost annoyingly happy. Bobby remembers Yunyeong as the typical good kid, the one willing to step between two people fighting because it was the wrong thing to do. Solving things with fists never works in the long run - well, he would fucking love Bobby's return then because he wouldn't hesitate to throw a punch if provoked. If his time in the music industry taught him anything, it's that he's not going to take shit from anyone. "Do you remember me?" He continues as he settles down on the edge of the desk. "Song Yunhyeong? We were classmates before you left,"

"Yeah," is all Bobby says. "I remember,"

"If you need help finding your way around this school, I can surely-,"

"Yunhyeong," Bobby interrupts, "I remember," 

"I see," he nods, pushing out a stiff smile. "Well, if you need anything you can come to me. I'm the class president," shocking.

It’s the jocks that approach him during the first recess between classes. They’re talking to him because he’s the superstar Kim Bobby, it becomes so painfully obvious the moment they invite him to a party. They never said a word to him before he left for Seoul. He declines, because he knows that nothing good will come from it - he has been through this play enough times to know when things turn sour. People in this school likes to stare and whisper, a few are daring enough to approach him. Most of them are girls trying to strike up a casual conversation that Bobby isn’t interested in.

Dinner is the worst however - due to the lack of sleep he had stressed through the morning, completely forgetting his lunch at school and now here he’s standing with a tray in his hands and no idea where to sit. He spots an empty table in the center, ignoring the people calling him over to join them because there is no way in hell he will ever sit with the jocks. It’s not his first rollercoaster. So, he decides to sit alone, bringing lyric books up and plugging the headphones into his ears to allow himself to focus on more important matters. He’s not here to make friends, or make amends for that matter - he’s here to try and impress his company enough to let him come back to the city earlier than planned.

Music is his passion, it’s what he burns for and knowing that all of that can be taken away from him in the blink of an eye is frightening even to him. He’s lost friends over it, he’s cut people out of his life and gained new ones to further his work. He has lost so much because of music and he will not let it go without a fight.

Bobby’s torn back to the painful reality as a tray slams down on the table.

There is a boy sitting before him; a boy slightly smaller than himself, shoulders not as broad. The boy looks at him for only a split second, yet it feels longer for Bobby. He had expected to see that hint of curiosity, the mischievousness that lingered right before a small spat and perhaps a bit of annoyance because of the past but what Bobby saw in those eyes weren’t things he used to see.

The boy doesn’t say anything, face stoic as his attention falls to his food. Bobby swallows down the thick lump in his throat and he realizes that it has gone eerily silent in the previously buzzing dining hall.

There is a boy sitting before him that he has not seen for years; a boy who disappeared without a word, gone as if the wind swept him away. There is a boy sitting before him that Bobby used to share his entire world with and yet the boy before him is a complete stranger. He takes one trembling breath before breathing out the name he hasn’t spoken for so long.

“Hey, ‘Bin,”


End file.
